


Sickly Temptations

by matisse77



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Schoolstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matisse77/pseuds/matisse77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chasing down your best friend is exhausting enough, but when mysterious lollipops get involved a whole new level of hell arises from your best friend's body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sickly Temptations

**Author's Note:**

> This is a likely lame story written by a lonely teen who goes by Matisse. that lonely teen is me. and this is my first real fan fiction. i hope you enjoy.

“John?” a shout came from across a bustling classroom full of rowdy teenagers.  
Through the chattering, yelling and constant disruptions a distinct sound could be heard throughout the room. The solid thud of a wooden door being shut was loud and clear to the whole class, but no one seemed to care. 

A smaller freshman boy had just raced out of the door at top speed, clutching his stomach as if his guts were slowly disintegrating. He was soon followed by a taller silvery blonde boy with aviators and an obvious cool kid attitude. That tall boy just so happens to be you, Dave Strider. It might help to mention that the scrawny freshman just so happens to be your best friend, John Egbert.

Your heart pounds like an angry beat box as you chase after him down the hall, your sneakers squeaking against the polished flooring. You take your eyes off of John for three seconds and that homicidal prick Cali gives him a stupid lollipop. What do you know; John is about to puke his guts out. Such a coincidence.

“John!” You call after him again, increasing speed. For a kid with a volcano in his gut he sure can run fast. You can hear him scramble into the boys bathroom around the corner, or at least you hope it was the boys bathroom. You gracefully skid around the edge of the hallway, and right into trouble. This time the irony is not on your side.

“I see that Mr. Strider is attempting to play hooky once again.” Her words were like cold ice, no, more like spiders venom. It was like she got some sick joy out of dragging your sorry ass to the principle. In any other circumstance you would just give in and allow your bro to yell at the principle about how teens need some fucking space, but this time the stakes were just too high. John needed you, and you refused to allow that spidery bitch to step in. You took a deep breath, preparing to coat your lips with the most sarcastic response physically possible.

“Miss Serket, my best bro is currently in the lavatory puking his guts all over that poor, poor floor. I plan on going in there and cheering him on while he spews chunks, because that is simply how phenomenal of a friend I am.”  
You totally nailed it.

Before Vriska could even attempt a reply, or possibly a ‘I’m going to teeeeeeeell,’ the sound of grotesque vomiting emanated from the restroom. To make its way all the way through solid oak doors must’ve meant john was doing some pretty hardcore hurling.

“And that’s my cue!” you say deviously as you slink into the restroom. She scowled as her face disappeared behind a lifeless and creaky sheet of wood. Nothing in your life could have prepared you for the events following.

John lies hunched over in the middle of the bathroom floor, one hand gripping his abdomen the other pressed against the cold floor in an attempt to keep him from face planting. As he noticed your presence he made an attempt to stand, only to be pulled back down onto his knees with a violent lurch of his stomach. Soon following were many strings of sputtered coughing and hacking. His matted black hair hung in front of his face, covering his pale blue eyes. His body was quaking as if he was being pulled back and forth by violent gusts of wind. 

A glance down revealed a pool of sticky swirling goo that looked almost like some gaudy Christmas decoration got melted in the process of a violent tree fire. It had been spewed all over the floor, but seemed to form an almost perfect swirl. The unnatural mix of lime and cherry sludge sparked a thought in your mind. 

“John is this some sort of sick prank?” You said your voice stiff and relentless. Your statement was met with sinister giggles, which seemed to pierce into your ears. Sure, John was a ‘pranking master,’ but he had gone too far this time. Causing you to loose your cool in the middle of the only class you actually enjoy, and almost getting you mauled by spider-bitch was definitely crossing the line. You seriously considered bashing his face into the floor.

“You fucking prick Egbert” Your words were ineffective as he remained in a crooked position, continuing to giggle. He sounded like a child watching a cheesy cartoon rabbit getting bashed in the head with a jackhammer. Okay, this was officially weird. John did not laugh like that.

With concern, you took a stance behind John, and was immediately punched in the nostrils with the sweetest, and foulest odor that you have ever had the misfortune of inhaling. With a wince your hand launched to your face trying to block out this barrage of candy scent. It was like someone caused a bubble gum cough syrup explosion in a cotton candy factory, and you were drowning in the vile leftovers. 

“Holy shit dude,” the distaste in your voice could not be muffled by any amount of sarcasm, nor the hand that was still attempting to block out the horror terrors of the stench below.

John’s giggles began to grow higher and higher in pitch as he rose staring down at  
the swirling mess. As more of his face became visible, you noticed a ring of sticky green and red goo on his face. There was clearly too much for him to have just spewed it out. You tensed as you began to witness a transformation that will linger in your nightmares for the rest of your life.

John’s eyes literally shook as they tried to focus, dilating and jumping back and forth across the room. His giggling began to evolve into hideous laughter, his lips forming a macabre smile that provoked chills to run down your spine. His hair then began to form into a swirling strawberry-blonde mess, a loose curl at each end.

His trousers folded into themselves, forming bright blue short-shorts. The friendly slime ghost on his shirt became a girly pink goo beast. The rest of his shirt changed into a blue that matched his eyes, or at least would have matched his eyes if they hadn’t become an unsettling neon blue. These eyes darted towards you, and in a haze of sickly sweet aromas and jerking movements, your lips were locked with his.

Everything is sweet. Everything is so sweet. It’s too sweet. And you’re kissing your best bro and he’s blonde, and in short-shorts and you don’t really know what’s going on, but it’s amazing. It’s amazing and perfect and oh my god what is wrong with you? 

You are not supposed to be feeling these things for your best friend. Even if he is as super dorky and attractive as John. Wait no your feelings for him are not supposed to be analyzed as you’re kissing him. Oh shit wait you’re kissing him back this is not supposed to be happening.

You’re fighting with every fiber of your existence to stay calm. But you want to just pull back and dance with joy and maybe fly around a bit. No fucking way. You’re a Strider. You have way more will power. You can manage to stay cool, just a while longer.

In another swirling screaming mess of colors and smells you snap back into the real world. Sadly it’s no longer much of a reality. John’s face remains only inches from yours, the sinister grin still fixed to his crooked face. Further observations reveal his skin has become shinier and even more of a peachy tone. On the center of both of his cheeks are blue swirls, matching the color of his eyes. 

His glasses seem to have slipped off as he was extruding the vile candy goo. You can notice every dimple and crease across his wicked smile, and you soon realize the reason for perceiving such depth. Clenched tightly in John’s left hand is your most prized possession, your sunglasses. 

“Hello there Dave!” John says suddenly, with a singsong voice that makes your skin crawl. After a few minutes of taciturnity, he realizes the reason for your everlasting devotion to silence.

“Ohhh, you want these don’t ya Strider!” he says gingerly, spontaniously gaining aerial buoyancy. You gape as he floats into the air, twirling your precious shades along the edge of his index finger. Usually you would be flipping shit over the fact that he’s flying, but this time you have a goal. 

“Give them back!” you shout up at him

“Nooope!” He giggles dancing through the air in crooked circles. Your arms launch into the air in a feeble attempt to retrieve the stolen cargo, when you notice something a bit more important

Placing your fingers upon your lips you’re met with an unsettling texture, evidence of a fact you’re not too ready to grasp. You cannot deny it. Your face blossoms into a reddish hue as you feverishly recall the pure bliss experienced only moments ago. Where had John put your sugary paradise?

“I see you enjoyed our little kiss” a devilish whisper suddenly issues from behind.  
You quickly swerve around to once again meet face-to-face with this altered version of your best friend.

“Hell no!” Your words fire automatically, harshly, but still a twinge of doubt remains within them.

“Come on Dave you know you liked it” John says twirling a finger through your hair.  
You seize his hand preparing to make a sassy comeback, when a bizarre sensation begins to materialize. Wherever his flesh meets with yours turns into a sensory over load of candied pleasure, causing you to once again want to retreat into a harmonious delusion of lollipops and rainbows. 

The flux of gushy pink feelings shoots straight into your chest. Your heart begins to thump accelerating at an alarming rate; unfortunately John observes your response. His tone grows continuously saccharine as he uses his free hand to cup your cheek.

“Come on, just give in already. You know you love me!” The sweet feeling intensifies, as the red on your face grows much deeper. Your eyes shut tight. 

You thoroughly refuse to admit that you’ve had feelings for John since you were in the seventh grade. You’re not even ready to admit it to the real John, and even less ready to confess to this John. Plus you’re ‘not a homosexual,’ in the words of the pranking master himself.

“Daaaaave~” He croons, causing the peculiar feeling to penetrate into your eardrums. The sensation is all over now, and you want it so immensely. Maybe one more kiss won’t jeopardize much… It isn't even the real him anyways… Right?

You shakily lean into the candy John, who is still hovering about two feet above the ground. You then allow you lips to once again meet with his. 

The second time around feels so much better than the first. It’s perhaps because you are no longer making much effort to resist his embrace. The feeling in your body grows to a new level of unimaginable heaven, surging just below your skin and tangling itself into your sub-conscious. Your whole body has begun to melt into the kiss, your knees wobbling.

John presses back against you, doing his best to pull you in as close as possible. This succeeds in causing you to completely let go of whatever dignity you once held so close to your chest. It’s completely intoxicating, causing a grin to spread across your face. A ticklish uproar emanates from deep within you, and you can't resist giggling uncontrollably. John releases you preparing for his turn in witnessing the startling transformation.

But to his surprise, part of you is still grappling for sanity. That part of you knows that this isn’t really John, and that isn’t real happiness. It’s an illusion brought upon by a sick sugar high, and you will not fall for it. You want the real John.

“N-no way you dick…” you stutter brushing off the urge to laugh like a dying hyena. John’s smirk weakens, but he is not yet ready to give up on his sugar-coated quest. 

“You’re just too stubborn! But don’t worry ‘Bout that, it’ll all be fixed soon enough.”  
John’s words revolved around in your head as he once again begins to play with your hair. In a pinch you remember something almost important. 

John always loved your hair. He would continuously play with it, and one time after a sleep over he even insisted on styling it for you. Maybe deep down he’s still in there, and if you’re lucky, there may be some potential for you to pull him back out. You can only hope that Egbert has at least a sliver of will power somewhere in that unorganized mess he calls a brain.

John’s fingers spiral through your hair as he spins around you, like a vulture and it's prey. You do the only thing that seems logical at the time. 

Grabbing him by his shirt collar you attempt to launch him across the room. You throw your shoulder back to add even more force, and push him will all the brawn in your body. The result is as if he had his own zero gravity chamber as he merely glides through the air stopping only about a yard away from his starting point. Harsh giggles mock your decrepit efforts.

“Playing hard to get, I like it” He snickers, seemingly feeling quite achieved

“If you want a piece of this Strider you’d better try harder” You’re attempt at a comeback comes across rather strong.

 

“I might need to take you up on that offer,” he laughs hysterically, swooping in on you from behind. His hands slink to your abdomen, utilizing the gap between your arms and torso. His fingers press into your stomach, forcing more candy-cane joy into your stomach.

“Is this trying harder?” He breathes with sickly delight. Your face grows redder, mainly from his emphasis on the word ‘harder’. When he receives no answer from you he simply lowers his arms onto your hips, luring you closer into his vile grasp. You can feel his body being forced against yours, and oh god you’re enjoying this way too much.

You try your best to think horrible thoughts striving to keep the urge to surrender at bay . Things like Bro dying, Jade shooting you, getting burned to ash by a giant green monster. Okay that last one was a bit far fetched.  
Your efforts remain fruitless as John begins to plant kisses along your neck, each an explosion of gyring joy. You have no idea how much longer you can take all of this. 

“John, please just stop” You call out with the burning desire to finally just give way. This seems to flick a switch; John’s overpowering giggles once again flooding the small room. This time it’s a bit different. The giggles sound exasperated, almost breathless. 

His grasp begins too slacken, and you can feel him start to hover even closer to the floor. Through all of the harsh noise you could almost make out a faint ‘help’. It’s not just any help. It’s the real John, calling out to you. And you could never let a person you love down.

With all of your strength you’re able to push the crazed blonde boy back, far enough to complete your next series of moves. You slam him against one of the stall doors and the metal shakes from the impending force. Your arms are able to secure a position on his shoulders, and for the moment he’s pinned. 

As you face him you’re expecting an ‘oh my you’ve got me!’ or maybe just a moderately surprised look, but no such fortune. He’s simply cackling at you, like you’re some child who has just spelled the word ‘hello’ correctly for the first time. You can’t let it phase you, not this time.

“Give John back to me!” you say, drained from the heated efforts.. As you hold him to the stall thin tears threaten to cascade down along with you into a pit of shame. He lucidly stares downward, his grin everlasting. 

“I am John, silly” He utters between even more of his high-pitched giggles. He pulls loose one of his arms with alarming strength, placing his hand at the center of your breastbone. With the slightest push you’re soaring across the room, soon landing on the hard linoleum floor with a hollow thud, accompanied by a painful crack.

The agony sears through your body, ranging from the crook of your spine to the center of your skull. You let out a blood-curdling moan reminiscent of a dog being beaten by its sadistic master. 

You try to stand, the pain seeping deep into your bone marrow. Hobbling to your knees you’re almost to your feet when you’re abruptly slammed back onto the floor. Your back once again greets the ground, an unpleasant exchange for your whole being. 

“Now, now no need to skip ahead!” John is now straddling you, perched on top of your body like some sort of rocking horse. Your discomfort level is beyond comprehension, not only because of the position, but simply his weight. He may be a short toothpick, but with his whole body pressed against your hips it causes a lot of pressure. 

You wince trying to find something that could ease the paralyzing injuries you’ve withheld, and finding the perfect solution all too soon. A hind glides across your cheek, offering immediate relief. The pain seems to melt away at his touch, but as soon as his tissue looses contact with yours the pain returns with even more intensity than before.

“I can take all of the pain away from you. All you have to do is surrender and join me. Don’t you want to be with me Dave?” As he speaks he places his elbows at either side of your now frail body, and he leans in only inches from your face. This causes a shift in the weight distribution, his pelvis pressing hard into yours, the pain becoming unbearable.

“All I want is my John back” your voice shudders at each sound, the effort to talk becoming a progressively arduous task. Johns face becomes almost psychotic as he instantaneously launches off of you.

He hovers above your limp body as an aura of mawkish rage fills the room. You could almost smell the sour in the air as he begins to speak, his words filled with a sort of sick pleasure.

“I tried to let you have it the easy way, Dave. I really tried. I gave you sooo many opportunities, and all I got was sass back and violence. We could’ve been boyfriends! Now you’ll never get the chance to be with your true love. What a sad, sad fairytale. I guess I’ll just give John back to you. So sorry that he doesn’t love you like I could.”

This was it. You are finally about to get him back. You don’t even care if he likes you or not, you wouldn’t even care if he never spoke to you again. Seeing his real face is all you truly crave. You struggle to your knees, then to you hands, and finally up to your feet. You remain tilted in an effort to evade more pain, and for a single moment you let your guard down.

John lands back on his heels facing you, his smile much softer, yet still suspiciously inhuman. With a few steps forward you expect to soon receive your best bro and share with him a tender, platonic embrace. But just as things were cooling down, John springs back into action.

He scoops up a sick fist full of the hideous substance that still coats the floor, raising his hand into the air and shoving it into your mouth. A It was all over now. The impact of the goo into your mouth was enough to force you to swallow it, the syrupy mess sliding down your throat like buttery cough syrup. 

Your vision blurs and you run for the door, slamming your body against it. Lucky for you the door was locked, evidently by John while you weren’t looking. You huddle against the wood, a wrenched pain erupting from your stomach. You can barely breathe, viscid liquid of your own bubbling from your lips and pouring onto the floor. 

You cough and hack and curling up, letting out disgusting and painful moans. That’s when you start to hear it. The singing. It’s coming from somewhere in the recesses of your mind, the melody familiar yet vague. The sound of children singing out in high-pitched voices.

‘la la la la, la la la la’ on repeat as if there’s a broken record inside of your head. It’s too much. You can feel your clothing shift around forming unfamiliar shapes and new patterns. The fabric seems to restrain you, revealing too much of your skin for any level of male comfort. You can hear intense giggles throughout the room. And after a moment, you realize they’re yours.

You’re drowning in noise and color and taste and everything is so very sweet. Molten honey coats your eyes and gumdrops form in your ears, you’re swimming in a vast sea of candied apple juice. All of the things you’ve ever tasted burst in and out of every one of your senses, and it’s hilarious. You just can’t stop laughing over everything.

It's all too much but it’s just perfect because now you understand everything John had said. Why didn’t you join in sooner? Now you and John could be together, and you could be happy. And he would love you like you’ve loved him for so many years!

But what’s this emptiness? Someone must have left something unplugged. There’s just this one little sound you can’t seem to tune out… what could it be saying? What’s that, a voice calling out your name? And it’s coming from reality? You’re simply dumb founded. 

Wait, you know that voice. It’s not your John is it though? It’s his john. The black haired boy with the dorky glasses and buckteeth. Your John is much better. Wait no, he isn’t. He isn’t? What is this sudden mental discord interrupting your world of bliss, It’s unaccepta-

You open your eyes, and there he is.

You’re lying on the bathroom floor, surrounded by hideous rainbow liquid. Not only are you lying on the floor, you’re also lying in the center of someone’s lap. Not just anyone’s lap, John’s lap. The real John Egbert, your John Egbert.

His face is plastered with worry, his glasses returned to their rightful thrown. His eyes have returned to their respectable color, and it appears as if the rest of his body has returned to normality as well. 

“D-Dave..?” he says shakily, peering into your blood-red eyes.

“John is that really you?” You’re words spark a smile on his face, not a smile as he had before, but a genuine smile. A smile that was sweeter than any candy or treat could ever hope to be. 

“Dave I thought I had lost you!” He shouts pulling you up into his arms with a single jerking movement. This causes hollow pain to echo through your spine, causing you to let out a low whine.

“Oh Dave I’m so sorry!” He said dropping you back onto his lap, only succeeding in causing more untold damage. 

“Shit John play nicer with your toys!” you grouch at him, with more relief in your tone then anything

“Dave I suck at this whole caring for you thing, you know that!” he says with a whimper.

“Did your dad never let you have a baby doll when you were little or something?”

“Oh and bro gave you baby dolls?”

“As a matter of fact he did.”

The two of you brake off into mild laughter, a relief to the pair of you. As the laughing dies off you look into his eyes, staring into the pools of deep ocean water, sinking into them. When he notices your glance he awkwardly searches for another topic, his face becoming pale carmine. Fiddling into his back pocket he pulls something out just beyond your scope of vision.

“I kinda sorta broke these…” he said shamefully, revealing the broken husk of your sunglasses. Part of you wants to cry, but most of you doesn’t even care anymore.

“Shit John, looks like your going to have to pay the price of braking a Strider’s one true possession. It’s like burning Shakespeare’s over-sized neck brace.” You breath with a sigh, pretending like it’s a shame that you’re going to force him into buying you apple juice from the cafeteria like you do everyday.

“H-how about I just, uh, give you a kiss instead….” He mumbles sheepishly. His words come as a surprise, but nonetheless you comply.

He leans down into you, and you press upwards in response. He’s shaky and nervous, and deep down so are you. But you simply place a hand on his face, guiding him downwards to you.

In an instant your lips are locked and your hearts are racing, never before have you felt this much joy. All of that trickster candy shit was nothing in comparison to kissing the real John. It was as if your whole life had lead up to that single moment, the single action that would change everything. After a solid minute of pushing and pulling, your lips dancing in and out of each other, you let go.

“I love you Dave!”

 

“I love you too John”


End file.
